


Forward

by blueinkblot



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: American History, F/M, Gymnastics, Roaring Twenties, Steeeeeve - Freeform, Super Soldier Program, fightin' Nazis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3921718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueinkblot/pseuds/blueinkblot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are eighteen as of 1917, the year the United States enters into the first World War. A party girl, the war scares you into sobriety and you find yourself catching the eye of a mysterious operation run by the military...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forward

Naturally, as the precursor to the Super Soldier project, you were older (in years alive) than Steve Rogers. You had been born in 1909, eighteen when the United States had broken their declaration of neutrality and joined up with the Entente Powers. The idea of the world at war had scared you, sure, but you had always been lively and, well, as your parents described it…  
 **Forward.**  
And they never said it normally, either: it was always springing from between their lips, a last-minute addition to a list of your qualities when trying to find you a suitable match. Which, with your recent penchant to disappear until late in the night (or, early in the morning) and often come home drunk. The only reason your parents hadn’t turned you in to the police yet was because of their fear that you would ruin your family reputation and end up as a lonely spinster drinking away the family fortune.  
One of your saving graces, they supposed, was that you were a fantastic gymnast. You were extremely flexible - actually, dangerously so. One of the reasons your friends weren’t afraid to go out with you in the evening was because you were deadly when wearing a pair of heels. Should somebody dare try to surprise you from an alley, you’d simply stick a heel in his eye and encourage your friends to run before you had to ding him up too badly otherwise.  
Fortunately, you had been scared into sobriety by the years at war. You helped your family to buy Liberty Bonds and to ration materials that were being called to ration. It was in your cleaning up that you caught the eye of a rather unorthodox offer from the government.  
The phone rang, and your father answered it. “Hello?”  
You could hear a deep voice on the other end, and felt your eyebrows furrow when his eyes glanced at you momentarily.  
“...yes, I am her father.” Another pause. “As soon as possible, General. Where should I bring her?” Your father nodded a couple of times. “Am I allowed to know what might happen to her if she is to be chosen?”  
 _Chosen? For what?_ you thought, taking half a step towards your father in vain to try and hear what was going on.  
“Now hold on a moment,” your father was saying as you snapped out of your reverie, “why should I subject my daughter to this sort of treatment? How do you know her fragile body could stand this?”  
 _I’m not fragile, Father,_ you wanted to say. _I’ve probably endured worse with gymnastics._  
Never would you have guessed your later reflection on those words.


End file.
